by Tania Crosse
Hillie stared at him open-mouthed. She really couldn’t think of anything to say, she was so flabbergasted. The effrontery of the man! And after all she’d been through…
‘What, and let you go back to bullying me like you did all those years?’ She finally found her tongue, ignoring his last remark, it was so repulsive. ‘Punishing me just for being who I am? Oh, no!’
‘Oh, come on, Hilda, don’t be like that.’ Harold put his hand on her arm, and she gazed down on it with vitriolic contempt. ‘We could be one happy family again.’
‘We were never that,’ she spat back, pulling her arm free. ‘And don’t you try threatening me, either. You need me. Dolly Maguire’s not going to be around for some time, and you won’t find anyone mug enough to do all that needs doing for the pittance you pay me!’
She slammed the saucepan back on the stove so hard that the water slopped over the brim, making the gas below flutter and hiss. She saw Harold shrug and, muttering something under his breath that sounded like Suit yourself, take himself out of the kitchen. A moment later, she heard him go upstairs to his bedroom. The parlour, indeed! Did he honestly think she’d fall for that one? That he’d give up his precious room to entice her back? He must think she’d fallen off a Christmas tree!
Hillie added some cold to the boiling water in the washtub, tipped in some Persil and swished it round so furiously, the bubbles frothed up to the rim. She threw in everybody’s nightwear first, the least dirty items, thumping them up and down and round and round. Who needed one of those new-fangled electric washing machines when you could vent your anger like this? And when Harold’s pyjamas came up on top, she plunged the wooden dolly into them even harder.
As he helped her, Luke watched silently. You knew when Hillie was in a bad mood, but you could hardly blame her after what his dad had just said. Personally, he’d have loved his big half-sister to come back and live with them, but he understood why she refused. If only his dad would let him have the front room instead of sleeping on the foldaway bed in the kitchen. But he daren’t suggest it. He was too scared of what his dad might to do him if he did!
With rain pouring down outside, they could only open the scullery windows partway to let out all the steam. The panes ran with condensation, and Hillie was sweating from punishing the laundry, running it through the mangle, rinsing it in fresh water and putting it through the mangle once again. The ceiling rack was hoisted up, laden with sheets and towels, while everything else steamed on the rails of the clothes horse.
Later, when everything else was done, Hillie cut generous doorsteps of bread, ladling on dripping from the fat cup, for Luke and the girls. But she took great pleasure in scraping a meagre smear onto Harold’s portion.
She glanced around with grim satisfaction. Everything was finished, the others all sitting at the table before their plates, waiting for their father to come in. Woe betide anyone who started before him! There was a pot of fresh tea with milk for the youngest, and three apples to share between them all for afterwards.
‘Right, kids. I’ll be in early in the morning. I’ve got scrag end of lamb as a treat, but the longer it stews the better. My plan is to do some of the ironing while it cooks, and then if you help me with everything else and it’s not raining, I’ll take you to the park in the afternoon.’
Hillie picked up her handbag and made for the door. But as she did so, Harold opened it from the other side.
‘Off home to a night all by our lonesome, are we?’ he sneered. ‘That little bugger left you all on your own ’cos of his shenanigans, didn’t he? Always told you he was a good-for-nothing bastard, but, oh, no. You wouldn’t listen to me and now look where it’s got you.’
Looking back, Hillie thought that if she’d had the kitchen knife in her hand at that moment, she might have stuck it in him. As it was, she lashed out at him with her tongue instead.
‘That’s my dead husband you’re talking about!’ she yelled. ‘He might not’ve been perfect, and yes, he got himself mixed up in something that was far too big for him. But he was good and kind, and twice the man you’ll ever be. I loved him, whereas you, I despise. So get out of my way before I do something I regret!’
Using both hands, she shoved him aside, then shrugging into her coat in the hallway, she flung open the front door so that it crashed against the wall. But as she hurled herself out into the darkening street, all she heard was Harold’s mocking laughter as he came to close the door after her.
Hillie paused on the pavement. She hadn’t stopped to fasten her coat and it flapped about in the driving rain. But it was hardly worth doing it up, even though water was already dripping down the back of her neck. There was only one place she wanted to go now, and it was only a few steps away. Tears of anger and grief trickled from her eyes, mingling with the rain. She brushed them away as she lifted her hand to knock on the door. It was rarely locked, but she always liked to announce her arrival before she went in.
Just as she was about to do so, however, the door opened from the other side. Kit jerked back in surprise.
‘Hillie! I was just leaving, but come on in. You’re getting soaked. I’m afraid no one else is here. They’ve all gone over to Rob and Belinda’s parents’ place for tea.’
‘Oh, stupid me, I’d forgotten,’ Hillie muttered, stepping inside. ‘Of course, Gert told me—’
‘What’s up, Hill? You’re crying. What’s that bastard done to upset you now?’
Kit’s voice was so soft, so caring, a voice she knew she could trust. Her defences collapsed and she put her hands over her face as her tears flowed unchecked. She heard Kit quietly shut the door behind them. And then his arms came around her, strong, gentle, silent, as she wept against his chest. It was such a good feeling to let everything out, and she didn’t feel the least embarrassed. This was Kit, who’d been part of her life, looked out for her, since she was a babe in arms.
At last, her shoulders stopped shaking and she hiccupped away the last of her sobs. She felt Kit’s finger lightly under her chin, tilting her head up to look at him, and he thumbed away her tears. She sniffed, and his eyes smiled tenderly at her.
‘I’m almost as wet as you now,’ he teased, brushing the front of his coat and making her return his smile. ‘I’d only called in to leave some bananas we’d been given at work. Got too bruised in transit to sell, but I know Mum won’t mind that. But let’s put the kettle on and have a brew. And you can tell me all about it. Or not, just as you wish.’
Hillie nodded, and followed him into the back room. It seemed strange with nobody else there and without the usual chaos. But Hillie had to smile to herself at the half-loaf abandoned on the table, with crumbs scattered all about. No doubt Eva had been running late and they’d gone out in a rush. But the mess was comforting and Hillie was grateful for it. She took off her coat and hanging it over the back of a chair, sat down at the table.
‘Here.’ Kit pushed a mug of tea in front of her and sat down opposite her. ‘Now, d’you want to talk, or shall I mind my own business?’
Hillie cupped her hands around the hot mug and gave what she hoped appeared as a casual shrug. ‘Oh, it was just Harold being his usual horrible self. You won’t believe it, but he suggested I went back to live there. He said then I wouldn’t need to go to work to pay the rent on the flat. Can you imagine? He wants me to take Mum’s place so he can treat me like a slave just like he did with her.’
‘Huh, the fellow must be mad if he thinks you’d agree to that! But I can see how that would’ve upset you.’
‘But not as much as the nasty things he said about Jimmy as I was leaving.’
‘What!’ Kit’s face screwed up with rage. ‘The bastard! I’ll give him a piece—’
‘Oh, no, Kit. It’s sweet of you to take my side, but it’d do more harm than good. And the thing is…’ Hillie hesitated, chewing her lip. She hadn’t said this to anyone else. Not even to Gert. Her dear friend was so open and honest that she might spill the beans elsewhere. But Hillie k
new she could trust Kit to keep it to himself. ‘Well,’ she went on, gazing down at the mug of tea. ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think. Three whole months on my own. And now Jackson and that… that brute are behind bars and awaiting trial, I can stop blaming them for everything and get down to the truth.’
‘Which is…?’ Kit asked softly after a moment’s silence.
‘That a lot of what Harold has said is true,’ she answered, her voice low and trembling. ‘Jimmy was fun, and he was kind. And he loved me. But he did enjoy the excitement of being involved with something that wasn’t above board. But, when he said he was doing it for me, that was true as well. He knew I’ve always wanted to get away from here. From the noise and the dirt and the overcrowding.’ She lifted her head and met Kit’s gaze, giving him a tearful smile. ‘We had a dream, you know. At least, I did, and Jimmy went along with it. Wanted to make it come true. A cottage in the country with roses round the door. Can you imagine the stupidity of that? Two lowly factory workers wanting the impossible. But Jimmy wanted to give it to me. And that was part of the reason he got mixed up with Jackson. I know it turned out to be something much bigger than he realised. Something he couldn’t get out of. But he was a fool to have got involved in the first place, so Harold was right in that respect. But I did still love Jimmy, for all his faults. And he died because of me. I shouldn’t have interfered. He’d still have been alive if I hadn’t.’
‘No. It really wasn’t your fault, Hill.’ Kit reached across the table and touched her hand reassuringly. ‘And Jackson would still have been swindling and bullying innocent people, and carrying out armed robberies in which others could be maimed or killed. A whole load of other rackets were uncovered because of you, Hillie. Fraud, demanding money with menaces, illegal gambling and firearms. The list was as long as my arm. A dozen or more criminals are being brought to justice. The last thing you must do is blame yourself. You weren’t the one who got involved, and God knows, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. It’ll take more than three months to get over that, and Harold saying nasty things about Jimmy isn’t going to help.’
Hillie nodded her head jerkily, and then looked Kit steadily in the eye. ‘And I would’ve died, too, if it hadn’t been for you. You saved my life, Kit. And I haven’t said it properly before. But… thank you.’
She noticed an odd expression come over Kit’s face, and he lowered his eyes. ‘If only I’d been a few seconds earlier, I’d have saved Jimmy, too. Or if I’d broken the door down in the first place instead of going for help.’
‘You wouldn’t have been able to on your own. No. You did the right thing. So you shouldn’t blame yourself, either.’
Kit raised his head, and gave a wry smile. ‘Then I guess we’re quits. And you know that whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you. Talking of which, when you’re ready, I’ll walk you home.’
‘But it’s out of your way—’
‘That doesn’t matter. You should have company to your front door, at least. And what else have I got to do with my evening?’
He lifted one eyebrow in that quizzical way he had, and Hillie suddenly felt warm and comforted inside, her sorrows and anger melting away.
‘D’you know, I should like that very much,’ she smiled back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Patrick’s late,’ Jessica grumbled, stirring her tea as they sat at an outside table by the park’s refreshment rooms. ‘Still,’ she brightened, turning her dazzling smile on Hillie, ‘it gives you and me time to catch up. I’m so pleased Dad relented and let me see you again.’
Hillie gave a half-smile. ‘And I’m pleased I had some time to spare. I’m usually up to my eyes in housework or ironing or something on a Sunday. But with it being Easter, I got ahead of myself on Friday. And as it’s the school holidays, Joan’s been helping a lot.’
‘But you must be exhausted, doing two jobs at once,’ Jessica sympathised.
‘Well, I’ve only been doing it three weeks, but it’s not so bad. The others all help, and Joan’s going to take over most of it when she leaves school at the end of next term. Besides, being so busy keeps my mind off… off things.’
‘Jimmy, you mean?’ Jessica suggested gently. ‘That night… it must’ve been dreadful for you.’
Hillie sucked in her cheeks and nodded. ‘I keep having nightmares about it. And I’m going to have to relive it when the trial comes to court. Give evidence. And, oh, I miss Jimmy so much. I feel… I don’t know, so empty. And torn. Sometimes I feel I just want to go away and start a completely new life. Forget the past. But the other part of me needs to stay. To be among my friends. You and Gert. And my family, of course. But I can’t leave anyway,’ she shrugged wryly. ‘Not until Joan’s able to cope on her own. And by then, who knows? I might feel totally different. But you, my dear,’ she said, jabbing her head towards her friend, ‘when are you going to stand up to your dad? Patrick’s been incredibly patient. But you can’t expect him to wait forever.’
It was Jessica’s turn to grimace. ‘I know. But you saw how Dad was about Patrick on that night. He’d have a blue fit if he knew about us. Not just friends, but more than that.’
‘Then let him. And if he refuses to accept it, then just pack your bags and leave.’
‘It’s all right for you to say that… Oh, there’s Patrick coming now! See you in a minute.’
Jessica shot up out of the chair and ran across to where Patrick was coming along the path, an impressive figure in his smart coat, and with Africa padding along obediently on the lead beside him. Even at a distance, Hillie saw the white slash of his teeth in his dark face as he grinned at his approaching English rose. Hillie watched as Jessica ran into his arms. They kissed unashamedly and at length. Then, as always, Patrick withdrew the little box from his pocket, and slid the engagement ring onto her finger. Jessica glanced down at it, then reached on tiptoe to kiss Patrick again. She only wore the ring when they were together.
Hillie released an exasperated, envious sigh. If only she still had Jimmy to embrace. If only there hadn’t been that distance between them when… when he’d died. She could feel her eyes filling up with tears again, and she turned her gaze away, concentrating on the nearby flower beds instead. Red and yellow primroses lifted their faces to the weak sunshine, and daffodils nodded their heads in the breeze. It was near the end of April, Easter being late that year, and spring was well on its way. Hillie prayed her heart would feel lifted with the better weather, but just now, the future seemed to stretch ahead of her in a dark, empty tunnel.
A man’s raised, angry voice made her turn her head. She peered round a group of customers who’d paused in front of the table and drew in a gasp. Oh, Lord. Charles Braithwaite had appeared from out of nowhere and was standing in front of Jessica and Patrick, wildly gesticulating with his arms. Hillie could see that her friend was cowering, but as Charles went to grab her, Patrick swiftly stepped forward to protect his fianceé from her own father.
Hillie hesitated but an instant before she leapt to her feet. She was near enough to see Patrick trying to argue back, but Mr Braithwaite was so enraged, it seemed he couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Hillie could imagine sweet, quiet, calm Patrick being incapable of raising his voice sufficiently to make himself heard, let alone listened to. But Hillie – well, she’d had enough experience of slanging matches with Harold to beat the best of them.
She only slowed her headlong sprint as she neared them.
‘Your piano teacher rang to ask when you were going back to your lessons!’ she could hear Charles shouting. ‘That’s why I let you go back to seeing your little friend so that I could follow you and find out what’s been going on. You haven’t been to your lessons in months, have you? And all the while, you’ve been seeing this… this native instead! Deceiving us, week in, week out. This is going to kill your mother! Have you no respect for the Christian values we—?’
‘But I am a Christian—’ Patrick tried to intervene.
‘And a b
etter one than you!’ Hillie couldn’t contain her fury any longer. It broke out of her like water breaching a dam, all the horror and agony of the past few months bursting out in a torrent. She saw Jessica’s eyes open wide with fear, but what did it matter? Things could hardly get any worse.
‘As for you,’ Braithwaite snarled, spinning round to face Hillie, ‘you’ve done enough damage, so you can damned well keep out of it!’
‘No, I won’t! Patrick’s a fine man! He’s kind and clever, and he can give Jessica a good, secure future. If it weren’t for the colour of his skin, you’d be falling over backwards to have him as your son-in-law.’
‘My what?’
‘You heard. They’ve been secretly engaged for ages, but poor Jessie’s been too frightened to tell you. Because despite the fact that you’re a bigoted bully, she still loves you. But if you don’t come to your senses and realise that she’s a grown woman with a life of her own to live, you’re going to lose her.’
Hillie stopped, panting, sweat running down her back. Braithwaite was glaring at her, face purple with rage.
‘How dare you!’ he finally grated. ‘You have no idea—’
‘What it’s like to be bullied and tormented? Oh, yes, I have. A whole lifetime of it. You’re no better than… than my own father.’
‘Oh, you’ve no idea what you’re talking about. It’s not like that at all.’
‘Then what is it all about? Explain yourself, Mr Braithwaite,’ Hillie growled, breathing hard as she realised he seemed to be calming down, thank God.
‘Oh, you wouldn’t understand, you little minx.’
‘Of course, I won’t. And nor will Jess unless you tell her your side of things. Why you’ve kept her wrapped up in cotton wool and not let her have a life of her own.’
Braithwaite’s mouth tightened further as he glowered at her, but then his expression appeared to soften slightly. ‘All right,’ he said crisply. ‘If you must know, my wife had two stillbirths before Jessica came along, so she’s very precious to us. I vowed to protect her in every possible way. And that included keeping her at home.’ There was a catch in his voice, and no one else spoke for a moment as his words sank in.